GOONGALA!
by nerd1659
Summary: Abandoned. Alone. Angry. A knight has been turned from his path. After a chance encounter a new route is formed. Armed with sports equipment and a killer mask he will take Vale by storm. His calling card? A good old fashioned battle cry.
1. Realization

**Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or anything else mentioned within this series.**

 **AN: I am pleased to announce this brand new story! Sorry about ending my other stories, but I lost the inspiration behind all of them. Give a hand to my beta, WolfeArisen. He's such a good person for doing this. Bonus points to whomever can sport all my easter eggs. Read onwards and enjoy!**

 **Realization**

To say I was having a bad time would be an understatement. I had told Pyrrha about faking my way into Beacon and her reaction was less than stellar. My team had confronted me about it when I returned to the room and I was literally thrown out by Nora. So then I had ended up sleeping on the roof of the school. At breakfeast Team RWBY wouldn't even speak to me, minus Ruby. Yet she was disapointed by me, it was in her voice and eyes. The same as my family. It brought back memories of hearing my sisters mock me and my parents ignoring me. And now those feelings of shame and anger were boiling inside of me. I was currently sitting in a small bar, sipping my alcohol. It burned my throat like fire, yet I continued drinking. My mood was worsening with each drink and I was getting fed up with it. I payed my tab and walked out of the dingy establishment.

I strolled unsteadily down the street as I grumbled angrily. Stumbling over nothing, I continued on my way. While walking to nowhere I lost myself in my memories. I was consumed by spiteful laughter in my head and I screamed in rage. I noticed several people staring at me funnily, but I paid them no mind. Someone bumped into me and spat me a curse over their shoulder and I ignored them. I felt the anger burning inside me and I needed a release. I stopped by a broken down building and examined it. It was two stories tall and falling apart. In other words it was a safe place to vent. I slipped inside and cracked my knuckles and neck. I walked into what looked like a living room, complete with chairs, a television, a coffee table, and picture frames on the walls. I kicked over a recliner in anger before flipping over the table. My emotional turmoil made it hard to think, all I could think was one thing: **DESTROY!** My vision tinted red as I slammed my foot into the television, kicking it over. I ripped the frames off of the walls and tossed them aside. I stormed through the hallway to what looked like a bedroom and took it in. A twin sized bed with no sheets, a dresser, a closet, and a small footlocker. I was still fuming yet my exhaustion caught up to me. My vision swam as I collapsed on the bed, blacking out.

When I regained consciousness I looked around in confusion. "Where am I?", I asked myself as I sat up slowly, nursing a massive headache. It felt like a jackhammer in my skull going off at full blast. I shook my head as I reached into my pocket for my scroll, but I found nothing. I cursed in fury as I stood up shaking the cobwebs out of my head. I took a glimpse at a boarded up window to see sunlight peeking through the planks. I groaned in annoyance, "I'm late for class." With that knowledge I decided to explore my little hideout. I peeked inside the closet to see a collection of sports equipment. I shut the closet and walked into a trashed living room. I remember what happened when I was drunk and felt a reminant of rage. I exited the building and took in my surroundings. I was in one of the slums over by Gala Street. I set off to find the airship terminal. I was about to walk off when I heard a loud scream of terror. I ran towards the sound to find a group of people surrounding a couple. The duo were looking for a way to escape and I just couldn't, in good conscious, leave them be. I looked around and seen a length of pipe laying on the ground. I scooped it up and walked behind the group. I seen weapons being produced and decided to act.

I swung my pipe and hit a thug in the back of the head, and he went down like a bag of potatoes. Several members began to spin around and I struck down another figure before they faced me. One person made eye contact as I struck him across the face with my metallic makeshift weapon. The remaining five members of the group all were focused on me. The apparent leader, a man with a purple mohawk, scoffed as he produced a machete and leveled it at me. I tensed up as they began to rush forwards. One of the goons was met with a pipe to the eye socket and went down screaming. Someone stabbed me in the stomach and waves of white hot pain flowed through me as I was struck in the skull with a hammer. I shouted in agony as my back was sliced open. I went down and was repeatedly struck with various objects. I lay there and was beaten like a used rug. I heard sounds of commotion and looked up to see the couple from earlier staring at me. The woman had blonde locks, an orange sleeveless top, a beige scarf, a green plaid skirt, and brown boots. The man had short blonde hair a green hoodie and jeans, with black sneakers. The duo looked at him and were debating aloud about calling an ambulance. I shakily stood up as I groaned out, "I'm fine. I'm fine, no need for anyone to get involved." The man shot me a skeptical look as he looked at his partner. She smiled brightly as she inquired, "Why did you intervine?" I didn't even hesitate as I shot back, "It was the right thing to do." The man had a frown as he stated the obvious, "You don't even know how to fight."

I hung my head in defeat as I admitted to them, "I never had any training before my enrollment at Beacon." They gave eachother a look and the woman gave her partner a glare and he shook his head. She frowned and stared into his eyes for several seconds before he sighed. "How would you like for me to teach you how to fight?", the mystery man asked me and I was shocked by his offer. I quickly regained control of myself as I gave a hasty bow, "I would appreciate any lessons you could give me!" The woman smiled as she introduced herself, "I'm Ashley." She pointed to her companion with a smirk, "And that guy over there is my husband Dave Lizewski." Dave looked at me with a frown as I told them, "Jaune. Jaune Ar..." My last name died on my lips before I could utter it. Feelings of resentment bubbled inside as I told them, "Just Jaune." And that was the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

I trained with Dave to a point where I was signifigantly stronger than I was before I met him. But the blonde fighter didn't have his Aura unlocked and directed me towards an acquantince of Ashley's for Aura training. After several months I changed into a new person. My skinny frame filled out with muscle to give me a lean build. I kept my hair short yet it was slightly longer. I was even adopted by the duo, who were only in their mid-30s, and I was now Jaune Lizewski. They treated me like a normal person and I gave them all the respect and effort I could. I had also started competing in an underground fighting arena occasionally. But my nights were consumed by another hobby that I had discovered several months back. My father used to be a vigilantee hero who stopped crime out of narcissistic desires to be noticed. He met Mom during a hostage situation. After hearing of his exploits, I decided that's what I wanted to do. So I stopped a robbery of a Dust store and the rush it brought rocked my world. So I would stop crime all by myself at night. I know I went to Beacon out of a desire to help others and I'm doing that, I just didn't realize how good it felt. So that lead to me starting a vigilantee streak, complete with golf bag full of sporting equipment. And tonight seems to be a big one.

I was wandering the rooftops when I heard a loud crash several streets down. I dash across the buildings, leaping over gaps, when I am greeted by a scene I personally detest. A group of men were standing around a man and shoving him around. Upon closer examination he was revealed to be an older gentleman with greying hair and cane. He had on a tweed jacket and grey slacks. I drew a hockey stick, and leapt down to the ground with a feral grin. A loud thud accompanied my landing as I growl, "You freaks need to find a new way to pass your time." The goons turned towards me as I ready my stick. Knives were drawn in response to my arrival and I noticed the victim had a slash on his face. I frown and twirl my weapon as tell them, "You all have fouled and this is... This is the penalty." I smash my stick into one's jaw before kicking his body into his friends. I land a hard blow onto one's throat and he drops lick a sack of potatoes, struggling to breathe. I proceed to hammer down on his head repeatedly until he stops struggling. Everyone stares at me before they all back away slowly. I turn my attention to the man they were harrassing. Asides from the cut on his cheek he was in pretty good shape, minus the rumpled clothes and crazed hair. The man stands up and stretches as he examines me. As he does this I can't help but feel naked before his gaze.

Eventually he thanks me and introduces himself as 'Fin Gunt Ignis'. The grandfatherly figure motions for me to follow him as he tells me, "We need to leave now." He wasn't shaken by the fact that I had just killed someone in front of him. After several minutes we are led to a building on Easy Street and he pulls out a key. I walk inside of the two story building to see that the entrance is rather quaint. A cream colored carpet, black rug, a couple of chairs, and a table with a television atop it greeted me. The quiet was beginning to get to me as I begin to speak to the old man. But I am interrupted by footsteps and a loud cry of "Grandpa!" A girl no older than me leaps forwards and wraps her arms around his neck. I examine the new arrival while they are distracted. The girl has on orange boots, bandages around her right leg, a black stocking on her left leg, a red longsleeved dress with orange trim that goes down mid-thigh, black fingerless gloves, a black cloak with an orange border, a black leather choker, and atop of her long chocolate locks was a black hat with two buttons on it that resembled eyes accompanied by a orange and red lace band. I was curious about her sense of dress, but I'm not one to judge. Eventually the two part and Fin turns towards me. He waves towards her and tells me, "This is my granddaughter. Say hi." The girl smirks at me as she says, "I am Megumin. Pleased to meet your acquaintance." I am a little uneasy about revealing my name to them so I just say, "Yellow."

Megumin snorts in amusement as she turns away saying, "I'll get something to eat ready." I notice her crimson eyes boring into me as she departs. "So Yellow.", the grey haired man says as he takes a seat, "What's your story?" I pause as I debate on what to tell him. I decide to tell him the watered down version, "I was abandoned by my friends because I couldn't fight and got drunk. A series of events led to me beginning intensive training and I decided to do something about the trash walking the streets." Fin observes me and asks me a question I seen coming, "Was it necessary to kill that man?" I sigh in defeat as I bring up a rather painful topic, "Two months into my 'career' a rather unfortunate event led to my epiphany that some people deserve what's coming to them. And before you ask, there's no redemption." The grandfather shakes his head as he tells me something that makes me laugh, "If you kill a killer then the number of killers in exsistance stays the same." I couldn't help myself and laughed at the top of my lungs, responding, "But if I kill one hundred then the number goes down by ninety-nine." Fin let out a laugh as well as he shoots back, "I have a proposition." I'm intruiged, but before he could continue Megumin walks back in with a platter with three bowls of soup. She smiles at her grandfather as she lays the tray down on the table. Fin extends his arms in a welcoming gesture as he tells me, "We can discuss it over dinner."


	2. Ran Out Of Dumb Titles I Thought Clever

Hello everyone who has followed and or favorited this story. I wish I had a good excuse for not uploading, but it's a weaksauce one.

When I went back and read all of my stories they just felt... off. I started writing them when I was an idiot middle schooler and filled with that stereotypical angst. Fun. I guess I can call all these stories the Dark Ages or something else, I'm not very clever. Either way I have a question that needs answering.

Should I reboot everything? Or should I make a new story that will... Clean up this whole mess. Hopefully.

I am posting this on all of my stories and want to know your answer. I will put up a poll on my account and it will end on August 1st at 12 AM CDT.

I want to hear everyone's feedback and look forwards to writing brand new and engaging adventures.

I will also post small tidbits of each idea in a fic of it's own, but not for a day or two.

Ciao!


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